


"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

by savingprivatesimmons (black_twosugars)



Series: Sentence Starter Fics [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:44:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_twosugars/pseuds/savingprivatesimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”</p><p>Jon’s jaw drops for no less than half a second. In that half a second, Jon’s mind has the quickest internal panic one could ever experience. It went from ‘oh shit, he knows’ to ‘oh shit, I can’t hide it’ to ‘oh shit, I’ve got to hide it’ all in that short space of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

**Author's Note:**

> This one was sent in by [red-lyrium-horror](http://red-lyrium-horror.tumblr.com/), thank you for the sentence starter ^.^

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Jon’s jaw drops for no less than half a second. In that half a second, Jon’s mind has the quickest internal panic one could ever experience. It went from ‘oh shit, he knows’ to ‘oh shit, I can’t hide it’ to ‘oh shit, I’ve  _got_  to hide it’ all in that short space of time.

He  _can’t_  let Ryan know, so he snaps his mouth shut, lips forming a thin line as he swatted Ryan’s hand away from his headphones; the Achievement Hunter had lifted it in order to whisper in that seductive purr of a voice in Jon’s right ear. He hopes Ryan doesn’t notice as he demands “what do you want, Haywood?” in a  _fantastic_ (yeah right, more like fantastically awkward and pathetic) attempt at covering his rose-tinted cheeks.

Ryan removes the glasses from his face, folding them and neatly tucking them into a small case, before taking a spare chair and wheeling it over to sit next to Jon. He’s so close that their knees bump once or twice before Jon awkwardly shuffles a fraction backwards. He’s not letting his guard down any time soon and there’s nothing that devilishly handsome (yet often weirdly murderous) dork can do to stop him.

“Oh, not much,” Ryan answers, and the corner of his lip curls upwards ever so slightly and Jon just  _knows_  that it’s not ‘not much’. In fact, he’s waiting with bated breath for Ryan’s next words… but he’s not about to say that. “I’d just like to know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that.”

This time, Jon can’t find it in himself to splutter out anything more than vague attempts at verbalising his inner turmoil. “I… I don’t… Like what? I don’t- I don’t look at you like anything.” He knows his cheeks are bright red – he knows because Ryan won’t stop smirking and whenever Ryan smirks, Jon blushes like a goddamn child. Hey, he can’t help it if the guy has celestial levels of attractiveness.

“I’ve listened to Gavin for  _hours_  about how  _great_  he is at cooking and how Meg only insists on cooking to downplay his culinary gifts.” Ryan explains with the sigh of a man who has been put through far too much. Damn, not even Jon would sit through that shit, although he supposes he’s lucky because he doesn’t have to work in the same office as the Brit. He only really hangs out in there for Ryan, and maybe to taunt the others at times as well, but mostly for Ryan. “I know denial when I see it.”

There’s a weird floaty sensation in Jon’s stomach and he thinks if Ryan keeps being so suave that he might actually just combust. It’s a sharp contrast to his typically frequent flubbing of words and general confusion regarding the English language. Jon decides to love and hate it; he loves it for obvious reasons but it also means he can’t make a ridiculous t-shirt out of anything Ryan says in this conversation.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Jon finally says, taking a quick deep breath to calm himself a little. He  _really_  doesn’t want to fuck this up. “I have a thing for you.”

“You have a thing for me? What is it?” Ryan asks, expertly pulling off a faux-innocent expression as he leans just that little bit closer to Jon. “Risinger, I swear to god if it’s another t-shirt with some dumb shit I said on it…” Ryan lowers his voice to a growl Jon’s almost sure is supposed to sound threatening, but he’s adult enough to admit (at least to himself) that it’s more of a seductive tone than an intimidating one.

“Oh my god, Ryan,” is all Jon can say. He rolls his eyes and dispels the urge to slap his hands over his face in shame because Ryan’s playing with him and usually it’s the other way around. “I  _like_  you, okay?”

And that’s when Ryan  _smirks_  and Jon kind of wishes he hadn’t given him the satisfaction of saying it aloud but he also kind of likes that smirk. He always has, always will.

“Cool.” He answers with a shit-eating grin that Jon wants to wipe off his face with ways that he’d probably get slapped for if it were anyone else.

“Oh my god, Ryan, you suck.” Jon sighs, but the smile painting his face with affection kind of gives away his true feelings.

“Hey, not until the third date,” Ryan scolds, a cheeky sparkle in those shining blue eyes of his as he waggles a finger at Jon and frowns. “So, wanna have the first one after work?”

Jon’s heart just about stops. “Are you serious?” He asks, and he somewhat wants to punch himself to make sure this isn’t a dream; only because there’s no way a mere pinch would bring him back to reality after this.

“Do you want me to be?” Ryan answers Jon’s question with one of his own. His chair is creeping forwards ever so slightly and this time, Jon doesn’t back away.

Jon doesn’t even hesitate before answering with a swift “fuck yeah, I do.”

“Then I’m serious.” Ryan declares, firmly planting his hands on the arms of Jon’s chair to hold him in place. Ryan’s leaning so close into Jon’s personal space that he may as well be sat in the photographer’s lap. Jon doesn’t have any complaints, though.

“How serious?” Jon speaks in a slightly deeper and quieter voice, although the latter is only because Ryan is less than a few inches from his face right now and he doesn’t think he can speak any louder without making some kind of stupid noise or freaking the fuck out.

“ _Very_  serious.” Ryan declares, infamous half-smirk playing at his lips as he  _finally_  leans in to gently kiss Jon. Having Ryan’s warm lips softly pressed against his own is an addicting sensation and Jon doesn’t think he could tell the difference between this and Cloud 9. This is more like Cloud 9 Billion. He tries not to grin into the kiss when he thinks of the fact that if they were on Cloud 9, Ryan would still be in the air; he fails, but Ryan ends up wearing a massive smile that lights up his entire face as he pulls back, one hand fondly brushing a few strands of dark hair out of Jon’s face.

The entire situation is kind of cliché, especially as Ryan tells Jon to wait for him by his car at 7 when they finish work, but Jon’s always been a sucker for clichés.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr at [savingprivatesimmons](http://savingprivatesimmons.tumblr.com/)!!


End file.
